“Ya Wanna Do It Here Or Down The Station, Punk?”: John McAllister

Yep, it’s rubber-hose time, folks: a rapid-fire Q&A for those shifty-looking usual suspects ...

What crime novel would you most like to have written?
THE REDEMPTION FACTORY by Sam Millar. Not only is it a great story, the book taught me how to depict life in the raw.

What fictional character would you most like to have been?
All fictional characters are screwed up in some way, which is what makes them human and interesting. I like my own screw-ups. A friend wanted to cure one of them once and I told him to mind his own business, that that screw up was part of me. But if you insist, the main character in the Dick Francis novel, TO THE HILT. I can’t find the book to give you the character’s name.

Who do you read for guilty pleasures?
Mostly I read thrillers but sometimes I get what I can only describe as a dry feeling in my soul. Then I tend to read something really literary. Quite often it’s a book by Jennifer Johnston.

Most satisfying writing moment?
I think whey you push yourself away from the desk and know you’ve done a satisfying amount of creative work that day.

The best Irish crime novel is …?
That’s not a fair question. I’d have trouble deciding who is my favourite Irish crime novelist, let alone novel. The best thing to do is to take the anthology REQUIEMS FOR THE DEPARTED (Morrigan Books, 2010). Open it at the list of contributors and throw a dart. You could hardly go wrong.

What Irish crime novel would make a great movie?
What about John Banville’s THE BOOK OF EVIDENCE? The book has a great atmospheric feel about it that could be easily transferred onto the screen.

Worst / best thing about being a writer?
The worst thing is probably six o’clock in the morning when I am crawling out of bed to get the day started. The best thing is when a story or novel is published. You are standing in front of a crowd reading an excerpt and suddenly you know the listeners are so enthralled you could literally hear a pin drop. Unless my late mother in law was there. Then all I could hear was her saying to her neighbour, ‘I can’t hear him? Can you hear him?’ And there’s me wanting to shout, ‘Would you wear your bloody hearing aid?’

The pitch for your next book is …?
My novels are usually thrillers but my short stories are based on social issues. One such story has evolved into a novel, which is due out next year. Title still to be firmed up. However, the book is about a Catholic priest who turns up at his new parish with his (female) partner. I’ve just got back the reader’s report so things are at an early stage at this point.

Who are you reading right now?
I’ve just finished Glenn Meade’s latest novel THE SECOND MESSIAH. It’s a good chase / shoot them up read, and the shenanigans of cardinals at the Vatican are very believable. I’ve just started a first novel, THE SURVIVOR by Sean Slater. Sean is a Vancouver police officer. It has started very well

God appears and says you can only write OR read. Which would it be?
Write. I could do a memoir slagging off God for being so unreasonable, then he might reconsider.

The three best words to describe your own writing are …?
Enjoyable, literate (as opposed to literature) educational (no big drums).

John McAllister’s LINE OF FLIGHT has just been re-issued on Kindle.

Nobody Move, This Is A Review: BLOODLINE by Brian O’Connor

BLOODLINE is the debut novel from Brian O’Connor, the Irish Times’ racing correspondent. The novel opens with a bang, when a young stable-hand, Anatoly, one of a number of Ukrainians who work at Bailey McFarlane’s horse-racing yard, is discovered in a disused stable with the back of his head smashed in.
  It subsequently transpires that Anatoly was dabbling in cocaine, and that he was gay, although O’Connor goes out of his way to stress that illicit drug-taking is very much a rarity in Irish racing; indeed, he also goes out of his way to suggest that homosexuality would be considered a rarity too.
  The murder has, initially, little impact on Liam Dee’s life, but O’Connor is very good at fleshing out the effect of the violent death on the world of Bailey McFarlane’s stables. Anatoly might be a humble stable-hand, but O’Connor expertly creates a stables that is almost a tiny village in itself, and one in which the death of the young man has a traumatic impact, not least on the group of Ukrainians.
  He’s also very good at detailing the pragmatic response of those engaged with the horses, whose concern is first and foremost that the events do not impact negatively on the horses themselves. BLOODLINE is strong on the relationship between racing folk and their horses, and the nuances of the bond between riders and mounts.
  Liam Dee is horse-whisperer-in-chief, a champion jockey in his mid-thirties who is starting to experience some doubts about the wisdom of continuing his career. He’s a very likeable character, hard as nails (as you’d expect a jockey to be), but a thoughtful, empathic character too, particularly in his dealings with Bailey McFarlane. His age, and the effect of a new romance with the Ukrainian beauty Lara, results in Liam wondering if his life might not be due a new beginning. As an unusually tall jockey (‘half an inch under six feet’), Liam is constantly battling with his weight - some of the most sharply observed sections of the book detail Liam’s struggle to shed a pound or three immediately before a race, in order to make the correct weight.
  O’Connor’s insights as a racing correspondent give all of these elements an authentic feel, although it’s notable that most of the conflict Liam Dee experiences is internal. The racing world is notorious for its scandals, particularly when it comes to allegations of race-fixing, but O’Connor makes no reference whatsoever to any kind of illicit behaviour by jockeys in this respect. Indeed, he goes out of his way to emphasise their raw-boned nobility, and the camaraderie that exists between the jockeys. The racing world depicted in BLOODLINE isn’t exactly squeaky clean, but by the same token there’s much less of a whiff of sulphur than a casual reader might have reasonable expected. The characters play hard, bend the rules, and take every advantage going in a very tough sport, but there’s no suggestion that they cheat one another, or resort to artificial stimulants, etc., either for jockeys or horses.
  One of the more interesting aspects of BLOODLINE is O’Connor’s decision to people the riding stables with Ukrainian immigrants. It’s plausibly done, and at one point O’Connor has Lara, a gorgeous blonde Ukrainian, refer to her Cossack heritage to explain her expertise with horses. For all that the Ukrainians are accepted for the ability to do the job required, however, there remains an undertow of conflict. Shortly after the death of young Anatoly, a fist-fight breaks out in the yard between the Irish stable-hands and the Ukrainians. The violence allows festering resentments to come to the surface: the Ukrainians believe they are not being given their full due, while the Irish lads resent the fact that foreigners have come to Ireland to take jobs from Irish men and women, particularly at a time of economic downturn. While O’Connor is broadly sympathetic to the plight of immigrants far from home, there are also strong hints - Anatoly’s dabbling in cocaine, for example - that he is also referencing the extent to which some immigrants can bring their particular brand of criminality with them when they move to a new country.
  O’Connor has cited Dick Francis as an influence, as you might expect, and the scenes in the novel in which Liam is riding give a visceral sense of what it must be like to be aboard a ‘half-ton of horse flesh’. Similarly, the scenes in which Liam purges himself - ‘wasting’, they call it - in order to make the right weight for a ride are equally convincing. Liam more or less starves himself for most of his life, endures long slogging runs to work off weight, and tortures himself in saunas to sweat off even half a pound.
  All told, BLOODLINE is a smart, authentic murder mystery set in the Irish racing world, a quietly assured debut that whets the appetite for more. - Declan Burke

  Brian O’Connor’s BLOODLINE is published by Poolbeg.

They’re Under Starter’s Orders … And They’re Off!

Crikey. You wait ages for a thriller set in the world of Irish horse-racing, and then suddenly you’re looking at a neck-and-neck race to what we can only hope will be a photo finish. Last week these pages featured a Q&A with horseracing journalist Lissa Oliver, previously a nominee in the James Tait Award and Longman History Award, whose CHANTILLY DAWNS is published by the small but perfectly formed imprint Book Republic. Quoth the blurb elves:

When top jockey Marcel Dessaint loses his racing licence, his whole world falls apart. Accused of deliberately pulling up healthy horses, Marcel is passed a verdict of ‘Gross Misconduct’ and forced to face the enmity of his peers. With a famous face and nowhere to hide in Chantilly, Marcel becomes an outcast in the only world he knows. With The Derby now out of his reach, he struggles to overcome his own self-doubt, while battling to uncover the truth behind the horses’ defeats and clear his name. As he gradually fears he may have been betrayed by one of his closest friends, he discovers all too late that it’s not just his licence on the line. Lives are at stake …

  All of which suggests that Ireland, a country with an honourable heritage in the Sport of Kings, has finally found its own Dick Francis. But lo! Here comes Irish Times’ horseracing journalist Brian O’Connor’s BLOODLINE, out of the Poolbeg stable, thundering up on the rails:

Liam Dee’s world is turned upside down when a young foreign groom is murdered at Bailey McFarlane’s stables on the Curragh. Liam, a champion steeplechase jockey, is initially both witness and suspect. However, shrewd police detective Diarmuid Yeats takes a gamble on his innocence and enlists his help in the hunt for the killer. This nightmare experience exacerbates the tensions in Liam’s life. He has been falling out of love with his job, his joy in racing relentlessly worn away by the struggle to keep the weight down on his six-foot frame. Is it time to quit? But McFarlane’s stables houses the brilliant Patrician, a potential Cheltenham Gold Cup winner, and Liam wants to be the jockey to get him first past the finish post in the race that matters most. With emotions at pressure point, Liam falls in love with the exotic blonde Ukrainian stable girl, Lara, leaving him in an even more vulnerable position than before. Then the killer strikes again and the race to the finish post is replaced by a race for survival . . . and there is no second place.

  So there you have it. A two-horse race with no clear favourite, and both contenders boasting a noble lineage. They’re under starter’s orders … and they’re off!

“Ya Wanna Do It Here Or Down The Station, Punk?”: Lissa Oliver

Yep, it’s rubber-hose time, folks: a rapid-fire Q&A for those shifty-looking usual suspects ...

What crime novel would you most like to have written?
I guess it would have to be HIGH STAKES, the first Dick Francis I read, which got me hooked! THE book I would most like to have written is Anne Rice’s INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE - not a crime novel, but one I continually aspire to.

What fictional character would you most like to have been?
Erm ... a tough one. All the characters I really love in fiction are tortured souls. As a coward who enjoys a happy life - not for me! So, it has to be Terry Pratchett’s Nanny Ogg! Who wouldn't want to be Nanny Ogg?

Who do you read for guilty pleasures?
No guilty pleasures, every story making it to print is a good one. Inappropriate for my age, perhaps? TEDDY ROBINSON, my first love, by Joan G. Robinson. Romance would be a guilt, but definitely not a pleasure!

Most satisfying writing moment?
The whole process of writing CHANTILLY DAWNS. It was what I set out to write and the characters just took over. The most satisfactory moment of any piece of writing is that final full stop. To sit back and think, “There …”.

The best Irish crime novel is …?
You've got me there. I don’t really read crime and Dick Francis only ever scraped in for the horses. That would have to be a pass, sorry. Even the crime I write about in the horseracing world is fantasy. It takes a great brain like Dick Francis (and me!) to make horseracing corrupt!

What Irish crime novel would make a great movie?
I haven’t read any, but they would all have potential. A good author makes their reader visualise the story, so the film is only a step away. The production company is usually a bit further ...

Worst / best thing about being a writer?
I can’t think of a worst thing. That’s because I don’t actually mind missing meals or eating burnt food. My family might have a ‘worst’ view point! The best thing is that I can wake up in the morning and type until I go to bed at night, and when I’m not typing my characters are always with me. It’s being able to play Devil with characters’ lives (playing God would be too simple) and sharing those stories with other people.

The pitch for your next book is …?
A young apprentice jockey finds his life intertwined with obsession, danger and envy ...

Who are you reading right now?
Terry Pratchett.

God appears and says you can only write OR read. Which would it be?
It’s lucky I’m an atheist, then! No one could stop me from writing, the story would always be in my head, defying them. And no one could ever part me from my books.

The three best words to describe your own writing are …?
Empathetic, gripping, unexpected

Lissa Oliver’s CHANTILLY DAWNS is published by Book Republic.

“Ya Wanna Do It Here Or Down The Station, Punk?” # 2,044: John McAllister

Yep, it’s rubber-hose time, folks: a rapid-fire Q&A for those shifty-looking usual suspects ...
What crime novel would you most like to have written?
THE BLACK ICE by Michael Connelly. THE BLACK ICE ties in back family history with the actual plot in a superb way.
What fictional character would you most like to have been?
Freddie Croft in Dick Francis’ DRIVING FORCE. Freddie was a nice, hardworking, decent guy. You couldn’t understand why he had such a complicated private life.
Who do you read for guilty pleasures?
Douglas Reeman. His novels remind me of my youth and a style of writing that has long since passed.
Most satisfying writing moment?
When I complete the penultimate chapter of a new novel. For some reason the final chapter is always complete in my head.
The best Irish crime novel is …?
Has not been written yet. They either have literary pretensions or have alcoholic, anti-social main characters that you can’t care about.
What Irish crime novel would make a great movie?
My own novel, LINE OF FLIGHT.
Worst / best thing about being a writer?
The blank screen / Somebody saying they read your book and enjoyed it.
The pitch for your next book is …?
Title: STEINER. Steiner joined the FBI, not to protect the American way of life, mamma and apple pie, but to bring down the senator who killed his mother. But before Steiner can act, a wanted assassin recognises him, and from then on Steiner must keep running in order to survive …
Who are you reading right now?
Tess Gerritsen – the fifth of her novels on the trot. You know exactly what the characters are doing and why, and you still don’t know how it’s all going to end.
God appears and says you can only write OR read. Which would it be?
I’d ask the devil for a second opinion.
The three best words to describe your own writing are …?
Story Story Story.

LINE OF FLIGHT is John McAllister’s debut novel.

Some Thoughts On The Switching Of Horses Mid-Stream

The lovely people at Penguin sent us an ARC of the up-coming Dick Francis novel, Dead Heat, although the reviewer elves noted a rather unusual development in the accompanying press release, to wit:

“ … And more than ever there is a special twist. With forty novels under his belt, Dick feels that the time has come to begin handing over the family business. Felix, the younger of Dick’s two sons, has long been involved with managing Dick’s many publishing commitments and has helped with the research for several previous novels, not least with Twice Shy which drew on Felix’s experiences both as a physics teacher and as a marksman. Felix, in Dead Heat, has for the first time taken a central role in the writing of the book. Over the last year, Dick and Felix have worked closely together, developing plot and character details for this novel, and hopefully many more to come. The result is the searing intrigue-filled blockbuster, Dead Heat, which heralds a new era for the Grand Master of thriller writing.”

Erm, exqueeze us? Shouldn’t that read, “ … a new era for the son of the Grand Master of thriller writing”? And while we’re asking questions ... Is there a danger here that Penguin are taking reader / brand loyalty a step too far? Since when has writing novels been considered ‘a family business’? Isn’t the joy of reading all about immersing yourself in a world created by the unique mind of a writer? Or are we just being naïve / pedantic / obtuse (delete as applicable) here? Answers on the back of €20 book tokens to the usual address, please.